


What I Wouldn't Do For You

by InkEros (thacmis)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, BAMF Charles, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Fake Character Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm just smashing together a bunch of tropes I love here, Jealousy, M/M, Poor Charles, basically erik gets hurt and charles has to rescue him, despite erik's shaking his fists at emma about it, just a lil bit on both sides maybe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thacmis/pseuds/InkEros
Summary: Erik is given a mission that, should he complete, could prevent a third world war, and possibly alleviate much of the tensions between mutants and humans. There have been terror attacks between the groups and the Genoshan Intelligence Service may have finally found the source of it all.Charles is oblivious to all of this and Erik plans to keep it that way. However, this mission has a zero percent chance of letting Erik out alive, unless he brings Charles' omega-level telepathy into play, which he absolutely,absolutelywill not eventhinkabout.But Emma has plans of her own...





	1. absence

"Emma, this is…" Erik mumbled, closing his eyes, his heart heavy. "Are you sure? Is this absolutely necessary?"

For once, the head of the international intelligence service softened her features into an expression that was sympathetic and almost friendly. "How else would you like him to find out?" she asked gently.

Erik didn't answer.

"Unless," she continued. "You'd reconsider Plan X-"

 _"No_ !" He growled suddenly, glaring at her. "Never. He must never be involved. You know how I feel about this. _Don't_ bring it up again."

She stared at him, and Erik had the unnerving feeling that she was evaluating him as though he were some kind of equipment she was considering whether or not to purchase. Her eyes, as usual, gave nothing away.

"If you can think of another, better plan within the next two hours and fifteen minutes," she said, "by all means. If you can think of another, kinder way of letting him know, then, by all means." She spread her hands and raised her eyebrows at him.

Erik exhaled. She was right. She was frustratingly, damnably right, as always.

"It's the best way," he said reluctantly.

"And the safest," Emma said, nodding. "He'll be completely protected this way, Erik."

"You'll take care of him?" Erik asked, and he didn't care that his voice broke on the last word.

Emma leaned forward, hands clasped and looking more serious than Erik had ever seen her. "You have my word."

***

He hadn't heard from Erik in over twenty four hours.

As always, Charles began to fret. Erik had encountered plenty of cases during their relationship where he was needed at work for periods of time that had lasted even longer, but Erik had never gone so long without giving Charles regular updates. Given Erik's line of work, Charles had been extremely, _adamantly_ specific that Erik always check in with him if he needed to work overtime. So Erik couldn’t _possibly_ have forgotten.

Could he?

Charles paced around the flat. Folders of students' essays were scattered around the table and sofa, ungraded. He knew he was a chronic worrier, and a bit too clingy if he didn't control himself. His parents never loved him because he was a mutant, his sister severed their relationship because he was obsessively protective, and his last two boyfriends left him because he was too jealous and too overbearing, respectively.

But Erik didn't mind all of that - well, no, he did, but Erik didn't leave him. No, Erik talked with him, helped him, and genuinely wanted to make their relationship work. Erik was so beautiful, so bright, so _good_.  Erik loved him.

And Charles never knew he could love anyone as much as he loved Erik.

Charles tried his hardest to trust Erik, to keep his worry down to a "normal" level. But twenty five hours without a call, a note, a single text message?

That had never happened before. Erik was unfailingly careful about not worrying Charles.

Charles was about to dial Erik's number - Erik had told him to never call him at work unless it was a true emergency - when there was a knock on the door.

Before he could become excited, his telepathy told him it was not Erik. He didn't recognize the mind, and a quick surface scan told him the stranger was unusually alert and very, very sombre. Frightened, with something cold rolling in his gut, Charles opened the door.

"Are you Charles Xavier?"

"Yes," Charles said slowly. "Can I help you?"

The young man took a deep breath, and Charles saw the words in his mind before they were spoken.

"Mr. Xavier, I'm sorry to inform you that Erik Lehnsherr has died."

Charles stared at him.

Charles didn't _understand_.

He was here, just _yesterday_ , making scrambled eggs in his ridiculous magenta apron and kissing Charles with orange juice-flavoured lips.

Erik had proposed last month. They were going to be _married_.

There couldn't… he _couldn't…_

"There was an explosion at the warehouse on No. 8 Avenue," the man continued. "He didn't… he didn't get out in time. There was… nothing left. I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Xavier."

The man said some more words that Charles didn't hear, gave him an envelope and a folder of brochures, and left. At least, that was what Charles remembered. The man might have spoken longer, but Charles' mind had long gone numb and deaf, and after the man disappeared down the stairs, he sat down on the sofa, and stayed there for a long time. 

  



	2. letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's letter

Charles woke up with an indescribably terrible weight on his chest, and it took a moment for him to remember why he felt so awful.

Then he saw the white envelope.

It couldn't be true. It couldn't  _ fucking  _ be true, he thought frantically, as he ripped it open in his hurry to confirm that it had just been a nightmare, it had  _ please just been a nightmare _ .

Erik's lovely, cursive script rolled across the page, and Charles' heart dropped.

_ Dear Charles, _

_ My love, my everything. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know it would come to this, but it's important and it must be done, and only I can do it. If you are reading this, then it means I have succeeded, but not in a way I would have preferred. _

_ Know that I love you with everything I am. You have my heart, and you'll have it forever. I love you. I'm sorry. _

_ I love you. _

_ Erik _

The world was ending, and it was imploding straight through his chest. He couldn't breathe, he was crying so hard. He felt so helpless; he wanted to rip the letter into tiny, tiny pieces and burn it all and pummel the walls until his hands were nothing but stubs, but he also wanted to hold it against his heart and never let go.

"Erik… Erik…" he sobbed, pressing the letter against his chest, and sat there crying for a long, long time.


	3. frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emma frost delivers news

The orange afternoon light dimmed and evening fell.

There was a knock on the door that Charles nearly missed in his half-conscious state. He didn't want to answer the door and hoped whoever it was would leave, but the knocking grew persistent.

Charles hadn't stopped crying, not for hours. His sorrow felt endless, his well of tears relentless. His eyes were so swollen they were slits, but he couldn't care less how horrible he probably looked as he staggered away from the sofa to answer the door. He couldn't even bother checking the mind of whoever had  knocked. He opened the door after several tries with numb fingers.

Emma Frost, Erik's frigid captain, stood on his doorstep looking perfectly groomed, as usual. Her eyes widened slightly at his appearance.

"Goddammit, I told them to  _ wait _ ," she hissed under breath as she marched inside without his permission.

"Excuse me," Charles croaked, too tired to be angry. "But this isn't a good time, as you can see. Eri-" His throat closed up.

Emma turned around. "I need you to sit down."

"Please-"

"This is important," she barked. "But you need to sit down."

Intimidated, Charles sat on the sofa, and she sat in the armchair next to him. She placed a laptop on the table before them, typed on it for a few seconds, before stopping and turning her full attention to Charles.

"Erik," she said, "is alive."

***

This was too much.

"I want you to leave," Charles said, shaking. "Right now."

"Charles-"

"Now!" he shouted.

But Emma looked unmoved as she waited for him to calm down. Tears were streaming down his cheeks again and his eyes, his entire body, were on fire, it was downright painful. How much more could a man possibly take? How the devil could she  _ do  _ this?

"What sort of horrible, horrible joke is this?" he cried. He was not a violent person, but he seriously wanted to throttle her for whatever she was pulling.

"It's not a joke," she said calmly. "Erik is an agent for the GIS, the Genosha Intelligence Service. He had to go underground for his current mission, and he  _ will _ die if you won't listen."

That shut him up completely. He took a few seconds to replay her words in his mind, and she waited. It still made no sense. "What?"

"Erik isn't a police officer," she said slowly. "He's a secret service agent, and has been for years. His cover as a police officer protects you, and is close enough to his actual occupation that you won't suspect his occasional injuries and his irregular work hours. But we can't afford to keep you in the dark any longer."

"Erik's… alive?" Charles whispered.

Emma's face softened by a fraction. "Yes, Erik's alive."

Charles' eyes widened and he surged forward as he skimmed the surface of her mind, even though it was unforgivingly rude and he knew she would kick him out with punishing force in a normal situation. So a part of him was surprised that she let him, but most of him was focused on… the clear shine of truth to her words. He gasped as conviction hit him like a truck.

"Erik…" he said. He began to laugh hysterically, and the laughter turned quickly into sobs.


	4. mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emma enlightens charles

His head throbbed like an elephant playing the drums in his brain. His nose was completely blocked, his eyes so swollen and dry he may as well spoon them out without suffering any worse, and his throat was nothing more than a rusted pipe, but Charles found himself far from being miserable.

Erik was alive.

Erik was  _ alive _ .

"I am sorry," Emma was saying, "that you had to hear the news before I reached you. You were supposed to know the truth beforehand, but the memos had gotten mixed up. You have my sincerest apologies."

"Erik's alive," Charles croaked. His hands shook. "Please tell me what's happening."

"We've been working on this case for a year now," she said without missing a beat. "There is a man named Sebastian Shaw who we have certain evidence is behind all the mutant attacks on humans, and even some of the human-on-mutant attacks. He runs a massive, organized, international web of crime, all in the name of mutant supremacy. He is planning to start a third world war between mutants and non-mutants, which must not be allowed to happen at any cost.

Shaw wears an anti-telepathic circlet, which explains his elusiveness and why I haven't taken him out already. This is where Erik comes in."

Silence fell as Emma waited for Charles to catch up. He digested her words slowly, and nodded for her to continue. "What does Erik have to do?"

"Erik's metallokinesis and his excellence in combat and undercover training make him the only one who has a remote chance of taking Shaw out."

"So he could just remove the circlet with his powers? Why can't he do that from a distance? Why did he - why did he have to  _ leave?" Why did he have to leave me like  _ that _?  _ Charles' voice grew higher as he thought once again about losing Erik.

"There are two problems," Emma answered. "First, the circlet is made up of a metal alloy that Erik cannot properly control, unless he is in indirect physical contact with it. We managed to obtain a small sample, and we discovered that Erik could only move it if he were touching the person whose skin touched the metal.

The second problem is that Shaw's powers are still not completely known at the moment, but witnesses have said his touch… is lethal."

Charles' breath stuttered, and his skin felt too tight. "No, no," he said. "We can't - we can't let that happen. Emma -"

"I agree," she said. "But Erik is my best agent. He is too important to lose, and you're his only chance of surviving this. He refused,  _ absolutely  _ refused, to involve you. Would not even discuss it without bringing down our headquarters - literally. We knew it was a suicide mission without you, so he chose to let you know he was gone without endangering you. He wanted so badly to protect you, Charles."

"Erik, oh Erik, you ass," Charles whispered to himself, feeling about to cry again.

"But we can protect him as well," Emma said, her eyes suddenly piercing as she reached over to squeeze his hand. "Shaw can be stopped without any casualty, but only if you help."

There was no need to think. His answer was as clear as blue skies.

"What do you need me to do?" 

  
  



	5. threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emma gets serious

"Just out of curiosity," Charles asked he sat in the SUV beside Emma. "What would you have done if I said no? Do you even take no for an answer?"

Emma took a few moments to answer. "The degree of coercion on our part depends on how heavily we require cooperation from you."

"In this case?"

"In this case," replied Emma, "Erik is too valuable an agent to lose. My board would unanimously agree to force your cooperation to rescue any agent of his status. We are not as cold-blooded as the movies make us seem," she said with a smile at Charles' surprised expression.

"So… what would you have done to me?" Charles asked.

Emma sighed now, and her face grew weary. "But he is also a dear friend, and I have great respect for him." Her mind clouded over with nostalgia and a bittersweet fondness. The feelings were shielded by an opaque telepathic layer, so Charles couldn't see the memories attached to those emotions, but Charles suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable about them. However, before he could analyze those feelings, she began to speak again. "In this case, I would have respected his wishes and let you go, had you refused to cooperate."

"Oh," said Charles. He didn't know what to say. He honestly couldn't think of a situation where he would have refused to save Erik's life.

"But," continued Emma in a very low voice, her eyes suddenly cold and hard as they turned to Charles', "protocol requires ex-persons of interest to have their minds completely erased of relevant memories, and that can include the very existence of Erik, as he is considered such a high profile agent."

Charles' eyes widened.

"Had you refused to cooperate," said Emma in an even lower, but infinitely more menacing voice, "then you're not worth a  _ fraction _ of the man Erik deserves, much less a man that deserves to even know him."

With that, Emma's face became relatively expressionless again as she turned away from him, leaving him to his own thoughts. The SUV bumped along the road to bad radio dubstep.

Charles' heart was racing with the hypothetical threat, and his faced felt heated from imagining the panic he would have losing Erik not only physically, but so  _ completely _ . Even though there was no possible scenario in this world where Charles would have even thought about refusing to bring Erik back, looking at Emma's cold profile, Charles buried memories of his fiance under thick chains and locked doors, just in case.

The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. 

  
  



	6. briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charles prepares for mission

"We don't have much time," said a woman with a young but stern-looking face, whose brown hair was starting to frizz from what appeared to be a very long work day. People were rushing here and there, papers were flying, and the open-space office floor buzzed with voices.

"Report," said Emma.

The brunette kept up with Emma's long-legged strides with ease, despite her significantly smaller stature. She'd had quite a bit of practice, it seemed. Charles, on the other hand, was scrambling to reach their pace; he didn't want to miss a single detail about this mission, about Erik.

Charles was actually quite _furious_ at Erik for hiding such a massive thing from him, now that the shock of Erik being alive had been processed. Erik had planned to leave just like that without a single goddamn word of explanation. Planning - planning! That bloody bastard _planned! After proposing to him!_ \- to… to die! _To! Die!_ That -

"…all the marks have been reached, as planned. M2 is at the hotel now with M3. Back-ups have scoped the area - all clear, so far."

There was no time to fume now - Charles tucked his anger into the back of his mind for future processing.

"Could someone explain to me what is going on?" asked Charles, frustration leaking into his voice.

"In here," said Emma, and she directed them into a small room, where a tall, lanky young men in horn-rimmed glasses stood waiting for them behind an enormous desk covered in what Charles assumed were spy gadgets of sorts.

"Charles," said Emma, "this is Hank McCoy, our tech specialist. This is Moira MacTaggert, who is going to be your partner. She's going to be there to help you retrieve Erik. Moira, Hank, this is Charles Xavier."

There was no time to shake hands - at least, no one really cared about social formalities in a situation like this. MacTaggert nodded at him, all business-like, while McCoy smiled nervously and said, "Oh, Erik's fiance. I've heard about you."

At the mention of that, Charles' heart squeezed and his breath stuttered.

His distress must have shown on his face, because Emma shot an icy glare at McCoy, whose eyes widened as he realized his mistake, and he scrambled around to change to a more relevant topic. "Right," he cleared his throat, and began moving the objects on the desk around, searching for something. "So I've made a special suit for you, Mr. Xavier, and a gown for you, Ms. MacTaggert. You're going to need undetectable earpieces as well. Your telepathy is going to be the only weapon you need, Mr. Xavier, if all goes to plan, but, just in case, I've made a couple of small - oh, can you shoot? If not, I have this other -"

"Mr. McCoy," said Emma. Her voice was neither loud nor soft, but commanded attention and the young man shut up immediately, flushing slightly. "We're very short on time. Moira, please."

MacTaggert nodded. "I assume you know about Shaw?"

Charles nodded.

"We've only time to give you the briefest summary. Shaw's going to be holding a conference in the private ballroom of the Westchester Hotel tonight at seven o'clock. Erik's there acting as a sponsor. At seven thirty, there's a ceremony where all the sponsors shake hands with Shaw. When it's Erik's turn, he has less than three seconds to get the anti-telepathic circlet off his head - that's how long the handshake is likely to take. But average reaction time is less than one second, so Shaw's going to notice the circlet coming off before the handshake is done and Erik's not going to survive this mission as is. This is where you come in. Any questions so far?"

Charles shut his eyes and took a minute to process it all. "I… don't believe so?"

Emma waved her hand vaguely. "Erik's going to shake Shaw's hand. Erik's going to use that skin contact to remove Shaw's circlet. Shaw is most likely going to notice it before the handshake is over. Since Shaw's touch is lethal, Erik could die."

"Ok." Charles nodded quickly, heart clenching again. "So how do I prevent that?"

"Once the circlet is off, you freeze him. As an omega-level telepath, that should be a breeze for you." MacTaggert looked at him with an arched brow.

He nodded. "Yeah I can do that."

"There is a small window between the time the circlet is removed, and the time Shaw will react against Erik. That is when you have to make your move."

"How much time would I have?"

"A second, less than that," said MacTaggert.

"Can I ask something?" said Charles. "Emma, you're a telepath as well. If this is going to be in close range, why can't you do it? You've had more training in these… sorts of things." It wasn't that Charles didn't want to save Erik - hell, he'd give up his life for him - but Erik's _life_ was in question, and Charles was just… a regular college professor.

Emma's face was expressionless, but McCoy looked nervously at her while MacTaggert darted a quick glance at her captain. Emma said rather vaguely, "I'm needed elsewhere for this." She was obviously hiding something, from the strange signatures of her mind that Charles was picking up, but it wasn't the ideal situation to push.

"You and I are going as sponsors as well," said MacTaggert. McCoy scrambled around and began handing Charles a tailored suit, an earpiece that size of a thumbnail, a small loaded gun. "We're going as fiances - an arranged marriage, but the details can come later. We'll be within a couple of metres of Erik and his partner agent when the handshake happens, so you'll have plenty of clearance."

"What if - are there any back up plans?" asked Charles.

"No."

His nerves were starting to kick in, and that answer didn't help. His hands were sweaty, and he nearly dropped the gun.

"No pressure," said McCoy with a nervous chuckle.

Charles swallowed.

  
  



	7. erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charl gets jealous

The ballroom was gargantuan, and shiny, and old, and absolutely reeked of excess wealth, to the point of being almost grotesque. Even Charles, who had grown up in a mansion of old money, felt nauseous at the display. Gold plated nearly every surface, including door hinges, enormous mirrors lined the walls, and crystal chandeliers that might have been made of real diamonds hung from each corner of the ceiling. It was all quite hideous.

MacTaggert took his arm and guided him into the room. Dressed in a gorgeous blue gown and an immaculate suit, respectively, they'd just bypassed security and was now milling about the room to familiarize themselves with the setting while the other guests arrived. Some twenty-odd people, dressed in a similarly horrible fashion as the room, were already here. About fifty other guests were still to arrive. Shaw wasn't here yet, either.

Erik was here somewhere.

Charles' mind darted rapidly around to find that familiar mind, the mind that he loved so much and missed _ so much _ , but he couldn't do much because he didn't want to trigger any telepathic sensors installed in the room and that some guests, apparently, might be wearing.

"Twenty four minutes," McCoy's voice muttered into their invisible earpieces.

MacTaggert continued leading Charles around the room, and they smiled and exchanged small nothings with the guests that they passed.

"There," she suddenly whispered into his ear, and directed his attention to a tall man standing several yards to their left, his right arm encircling a very slender and petite young woman. They were talking to an older couple dressed in nauseous colours and jewelry.

It was Erik.

Alive.

Charles' heart gave a painful lurch and he couldn't help giving a little gasp. MacTaggert looked at him sharply, but said nothing otherwise. They walked towards them.

As Charles watched, the woman in Erik's arm leaned into Erik's touch, laughing softly at something he'd said. Erik looked down at her, smiling tenderly and they exchanged a… a kiss. A kiss.

MacTaggert hissed, and he realized he'd clenched her hand too hard.

"Sorry," he said, his eyes still trained on Erik and the woman.

"Dr. Magda Maximoff. She's the other agent, Erik's partner. They're playing a couple. Relax, Charles."

Charles did his best not to scowl. It was hard not to feel awful at the sight, especially since less than a day ago he'd cried himself to pieces thinking Erik had died, and now there he was, his  _ fiance _ , playing a particularly convincing loving husband to another woman.

Erik's hand continued to rest on Magda's figure as Charles and Magda approached them, and he continued to allow Magda's body to rest flush against his own. Charles breathed deeply, knowing this was all an act, but knowing is different from feeling. There was a sudden spike of fury that Erik could pull this sort of thing off when he knew, he  _ knew _ , that Charles would be crying his eyes out back home and losing half his soul thinking Erik was dead. Sure, this was part of Erik's job, but ever since Erik proposed and took over Charles' heart forever, his life was connected to Charles and it was beyond inconsiderate to think he could make such a decision on his own and not even mention a single word to his  _ fiance _ .

And there he was, cozied up to another woman just before his suicide mission, oblivious to Charles' presence.

Charles threw what was equivalent of a fist-sized stone at Erik's shielded mind.

It bounced off, but not without causing reverberations that rippled throughout the mind. Thanks to his training, Erik did not flinch, but he certainly froze ever so slightly. Erik slowly turned his head, and their eyes met.

Shock and anger flashed across his face like lightning.

Just then, Magda turned around and saw them as well. She was obviously in about this hidden aspect of the mission, because she tugged her "husband" enthusiastically towards them with an enormous smile on her beautiful face.

"Moira! Charles! It's so wonderful to see you! Erik, darling, this is Charles and his fiancee Moira. They're the couple I met in Paris last month that I told you about. Charles, Moira, this is my husband, Erik."

Charles' veins popped at Magda's casual connubial language. Erik was glaring not only daggers, but axes and swords at Moira. Moira stared back impassively.

Moira pinched his elbow discreetly, and it dragged him out of his muck. Charles stepped forward, partially blocking Moira from view and forcing Erik to look at him. Charles cranked up the intensity of his own glare twenty times that of Erik's - if anyone had the right to be furious, it was  _ Charles _ . Erik stepped back slightly, looking cowed now but still shocked and angry.

"Wonderful to meet you," said Charles, just a bit more forcefully than necessary, as he extended a hand towards Erik.

"Likewise," said Erik, sounding hoarse.

They shook hands. Charles gripped him tightly, slipping  _ I don’t want to let you go _ through a crack in Erik's shielding. When they released hands, Erik's fingers left a lingering caress on his palm, and Charles swallowed, feeling suddenly dangerously close to tears.

_ Please be careful, please be careful _ , he whispered frantically into Erik's mind, right before their hands slipped apart.

Erik looked at him with eyes full of emotion, and  _ love _ .

Then, the presence of Shaw was announced of the PA. Erik's eyes shuttered and he turned towards Magda again, and spoke to her as a husband would his wife. Charles stepped back, trying to ignore the pain in his chest, and Moira gently squeezed his arm.


	8. touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down
> 
> also note: slightly graphic description in one of the sentences in the second last paragraph. jsyk

Shaw was a deceptively mild-looking man. He had angular features and wasn't heavily built, and had a decently handsome face, but his eyes, grey and cold, betrayed hunger, a thirst for power that could curse horrible deaths onto anyone or anything that stood in his path.

And Erik was there.

Charles struggled to school his features as he watched his fiance take that step which would lead him to stand face-to-face with Shaw. Cold sweat coated his palms and Charles fought not to just put everyone to sleep right then and there, not to do something stupid and drastic to take Shaw's attention away from Erik. The only thing that really stopped him was that Shaw wouldn't be affected, and could still kill everyone in this room if Charles did anything.

Moira squeezed his arm lightly, letting him know that his move was near, and Charles tried to concentrate, to breathe.

Erik smiled pleasantly at Shaw, who smiled back with oily affection. It was apparent that they'd known each other for some time; Erik must have been cozying up to him as a long-term mission. Charles grinded his teeth; Erik's been this close to this literal bomb of a man without Charles ever knowing…!

_ Can it _ , Charles thought to himself, frustrated with his inability to concentrate.

Then Erik moved his right hand forward, and there was no more time to think.

Shaw gripped his hand, and they shook, once, twice, three times.

On the first shake, Charles saw a glimmer in Shaw's hair move.

On the second, something very thin and silver slipped upwards off his crown.

Shaw's brows were starting to furrow.

On the third shake, several things happened at once.

The circlet was completely visible now, touching only the occipital bone of Shaw's head as it arced backwards.

Shaw had realized what was happening, and his face was twisting with frightening anger.

Erik stepped back, and moved to pull his hand out from Shaw's grip.

But Shaw was gripping Erik's right hand hard, and Erik was trapped. His face was starting to scrunch with pain. Shaw's left hand was already moving upwards, palm out, towards Erik's chest, and the distance between them was closing too fast, and Charles still couldn't feel Shaw's mind, and he wanted to scream.

The moment the circlet left contact of Shaw's body, his mind came online for Charles to dive into. Charles searched frantically around for the right switch to put him to sleep, and he might have damaged a few things in his wild hunt, but in his haste, what usually came naturally to him took him just a fraction of a second longer than normal.

When he finally found it, Charles slammed his mind into sleep, and Shaw crumpled like paper onto the ground, but he was too late.

Shaw's fingers had grazed Erik's chest, and the damage was done.

There were several horrible, audible cracks that sounded at once, and blood came shooting out of Erik's mouth. Red bloomed across his shirt as he fell backwards, too slowly, hitting the ground in a twisted heap of twisted limbs, his face slack, his eyes open and sightless.

Charles screamed.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 9.28 note: wow it's been a while, my apologies. we're near the end soon though, so i can guarantee this will not end up a wip. 
> 
> experimental fic that will be updated bit by bit in drabble-lengths, since i'm writing it at the same time ~~and updating everyday/every other day.~~ (lol)
> 
> hope you enjoy!


End file.
